


Keep You Company

by doubtthestars



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Footy Ficathon, Gen, M/M, angsty, musings of a basque gentleman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 23:15:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3096173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doubtthestars/pseuds/doubtthestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He finds out through Carra's twitter and some removed part of him wonders how it had come to this, not that Stevie had to announce it to the world, much less to him personally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep You Company

**Author's Note:**

> paying it forward because the gerlonso feels are overwhelming right now.

The winter puts him on edge. He blames it on becoming complacent, Spanish winters are not at all like (liverpoolliverpoolliverpool) the chill that settles deep in Munich. The break makes him itch and he runs around the block to get his blood pumping, to feel something other than foreboding. 

He wonders if he is becoming too old to hope in a new start. It is routine to change his spots like the chameleon leopard he has become, but inside he still bleeds red(and that is his only constant besides love of the game.) 

Too old echoes in his mind as he is surrounded by teammates new and old, Pepe would understand how old he feels. 

It gets harder to spring back up after every injury, and one day he will have to lay back down gracefully because he is Xabi Alonso, and expectations must be met.

He finds out through Carra's twitter and some removed part of him wonders how it had come to this, not that Stevie had to announce it to the world, much less to him personally, but how had the last bastion of hope(and maybe that is where his hope went to rest, inside Steven fucking Gerrard) crumbled and scattered to the wind.

(the MLS wasn't part of the map that made Xabi, and he is so tired, too tired to make the journey)

There were a series of drafts in his phone:

_Really Steven, following Beckham?_

_At least let me come home first, let me believe it is Liverpool I miss instead of wherever you reside._

_I thought to retire, instead I keep chasing after Istanbul._

He cannot press send. 

He tweets a picture of them in mud and red, and sums his idle thoughts up with my hero, my mate. The unspoken love there for anyone to see.


End file.
